


when the stars are the only thing we've shared

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drinking, Happy Ending, M/M, Miller's boyfriend lives, Nightmares, endgame Minty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miller's boyfriend from Farm Station has survived. He's back, he's sharing a tent with him in Arkadia, but it doesn't feel right. Miller's been through too much now and he's not sure that his boyfriend will understand.</p><p>Miller x OC, Miller x Monty. Minty endgame because I'm weak for these boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the stars are the only thing we've shared

**Author's Note:**

> Miller's boyfriend from farm station is probably definitely going to be found alive for at least a little bit in the show, and I wanted them to have some good times because Miller deserves that. But I also really really really want Miller and Monty to get together lmao. Enjoy!
> 
> fic title from Atlas Hands by Benjamin Francis Leftwich

Miller woke up in a cold sweat, sucking in cold air, unfeeling of the warm body that was beside him. He sat up and rubbed methodically at his eyes while breathing in, breathing out, to calm himself down. It was one breath after another until his heartrate dropped, until the sweat on his body had cooled. Even after that he swung his legs to the edge of the bed and continued breathing. Trying to forget the nightmare that had gotten him there.

“Nate?” Miller tensed and took another deep breath before turning, looking over his shoulder at the boy curled up on the other side of the bed. He was blinking at him with sleepy eyes and a nervous sort of smile. “You okay?”

“Just need a minute,” he answered. “I’m fine, Trent, go back to sleep.”

Miller still wasn’t used to Trent being back. Being here. Sharing a bed. It had been almost as week now and still it was strange, falling asleep beside the boy he fell in love with so long ago when they all lived in the sky.

“Another bad dream?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Miller repeated. “Just need a minute.” Trent reached out for Miller’s hand but before he could reach it Miller stood. “Need some air.” He pulled on his shoes wordlessly, not turning around to see the face of his boyfriend, before leaving the room. Miller didn’t think he could stand it if he looked upset.

It had been like this for months. Ever since escaping Mount Weather with his life Miller didn’t sleep very well. But Trent, who'd only been here for weeks, didn't know that.

He wound his way through the tent city (they were slowly but surely building real homes, with real ceilings and doors and windows) before making it to the center of camp. His feet carried him where they always did when he needed to walk, needed to think, needed to breathe.

Miller stood at the fire pit and looked into the fading flames. There was hardly anyone around considering how late it was, most everyone had gone to sleep. But Miller’s tent felt too small and he needed to get away like he always did when he was reminded of what he’d been through.

He’d barely sat down when someone lowered themselves into the spot beside him. Miller turned his head to find Monty, just as pale-faced as Miller felt.

“Another one?” Monty asked. Miller tipped his head forward into a nod. “Me too.”

Miller crossed his arms over his chest. It was a cold night and he didn’t grab a jacket before leaving his tent, and the fire wasn’t big enough to actually produce a lot of heat.

“Mount Weather?” Miller asked. Monty nodded. As though it was a joke, Miller smiled. “Me too.” Monty turned to look at him before a smile crept onto his face as well, and then a small laugh escaped the both of them. But soon they were quiet again. “Radiation?” Miller asked.

“Drills. What about you?”

“Guards,” Miller said. It wasn’t much detail but he’d had the dream before, and Monty knew. He nodded in understanding. Miller could still remember it, the humming under his skin when he swung his handcuffs around a man’s throat, strangling him before crushing his skull against a wall. It had felt personal, the way he killed that guard. It stuck with him even now. He let out a short breath now before dropping his face into his hands. “I thought that it’d get easier,” he muttered.

“It will,” Monty said. “Probably. Hopefully.” Monty shook his head and sighed as well. “Eventually.”

“Maybe.”

“I mean, it gets easier every day,” Monty tried. “Right? We found the farm station. I’ve got my mom again. You’ve got Trent.” Miller tipped his head into a slight nod. That was true. They were getting their people back, getting their lives in order again. “How’s he?”

“Asleep,” Miller lied. He _hoped_ Trent had fallen back asleep. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go back and be pelted with questions.

“You could wake him,” Monty suggested. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Monty and Trent had practically been neighbors back on the Ark. Miller didn’t know Monty too well until the ground, but it was nice that Trent could slowly sort of work his way in with their friends instead of just being known as _Miller’s boyfriend_. Monty was friendly with him, Jasper too when he was sober enough and had gotten enough sleep to be a decent functioning human being. And it was nice that Miller didn’t have to choose between his boyfriend and his friends. That he could have them both and it worked out.

“You’re right,” Miller murmured, “he probably wouldn’t. But it’s heavy shit that he doesn’t need to know about.”

Monty frowned. “You haven’t told him?”

Miller shook his head. “What good would that do anyone?”

“ _Nate_ , it’s—” Monty stopped when Miller swung his head around. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Monty looked away again. “Miller,” he started again. “He should know what you’ve been through.” Miller shook his head and looked back to the dying flames. “Why not?”

“Because his earth and my earth are very different,” Miller muttered. “His bad experiences weren’t life threatening, not really. Not like ours.” Miller planned to let Trent hang onto that view that earth was beautiful and safe and bountiful as long as possible. Not that it was dangerous, not that it was deadly. “I just can’t, Monty.”

Monty clearly hesitated. He looked frustrated, his eyebrows together on his forehead and his nose scrunched up. “You should be able to talk to him,” he finally said.

“Not about this.”

Not about any of it. Trent didn’t need that burden. What good would it do him now, that it was over? Nothing. It wouldn’t help anyone. Especially not him. Monty sighed loudly. He didn’t agree, that was obvious. But it wasn’t Monty’s decision in the end.

“You talk to me about it,” he murmured.

“That’s different,” Miller said at once. Because he almost knew what Monty was thinking. Maybe. _Why can you tell me, but not him?_ “We went through that together. You _understand_ , Monty.”

“And he wouldn’t?”

Miller took a deep breath before pushing himself to his feet. He muttered quietly that he was going to bed before hurrying back to his tent. When he entered he did so silently, kicking off his shoes without making any noise before climbing back into bed with Trent. The question Monty had asked him was bouncing around his mind and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Trent shifted when Miller snuck under the blankets and curled up next to him.

“Mmf. Cold,” Trent murmured in his sleep.

Miller wrapped an arm around him and let out another deep breath. He could think about it in the morning

* * *

“I was thinking maybe we could head to the river today.”

Miller looked up from his eggs across the table at Trent who’d just spoken. Miller swallowed his bite and cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on Trent rather than looking at Bellamy who was beside him clearly giving both of them a look.

“For… what?” Miller asked.

Trent laughed a little. “Fun?”

Miller _did_ look at Bellamy now before looking back at his boyfriend. “We can’t just go to the river,” he murmured, poking at his breakfast with his fork. “I have guard duty.”

“Sector 7 again,” Bellamy supplied. “Miller’s our best shot.”

Trent looked between the two of them before shrugging. “Take off,” he said.

Miller wanted to laugh. He honest to God wanted to tip his head back and laugh until he couldn’t breathe. Take off? _Take off?_ He couldn’t just take off of work, he couldn’t skip. Not only was it expected of him to do his job (that he was damn good at, as Bellamy so kindly pointed out), but the world didn’t stop fucking up just so he could go to the river with his boyfriend. Would he _like_ to just go to the river and make out? Uh, yeah. Who wouldn’t? But _could_ he?

“That’s not how it works, Trent,” Miller said. “Maybe next week.”

Trent nodded slightly, but looked disappointed. “Yeah, okay.” He grabbed his plates then, offering to grab anyone else’s if they’d finished, to take them off to the dish washing station.

The moment he was gone Bellamy turned to Miller. “If you need a day—”

“I don’t,” Miller cut his friend off. It’s not like it was in the beginning, when they first arrived on the dropship. They couldn’t just do _whatever the hell they wanted_. Not anymore. “If we’re going to Sector 7 then I’m going. You need me.” Bellamy made some sort of face and Miller frowned. “What?”

“He misses you,” Bellamy murmured, his eyes sliding across the dining hall to where Trent was returning the dishes. “It’s been four months, Miller. Just go easy on him.”

“He doesn’t understand,” Miller said.

“Then _explain it_ to him,” Bellamy returned. “He’s alive. He’s here. Take advantage of that.”

With a frown Miller quickly shoveled down the rest of his food, standing while swallowing his last bites, and quickly crossing to the dish washing station where Trent had gotten distracted talking with someone. After Miller returned his plates he walked to his boyfriend, hands sliding down his shoulders before turning him pulling him away from the conversation and closer to him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Miller said gently before taking Trent’s hands in his own. “I’d kill to go to the river with you. There’re just more important things.”

“I get it, Nate,” Trent said. He shrugged a little. “You weren’t so serious back on the Ark, is all. It’s weird seeing you so into… work. And guard stuff. You used to hate it.” Miller ignored the fire that was burning in his chest at these words. It was different on the Ark. But now on earth they _needed_ guards. They needed good shots like Miller was. “And I just want to spend some time with you.”

“We’ll go sometime soon,” Miller murmured. “Yeah?”

Trent’s face lit up with a small smile. “I’d like that.”

* * *

Miller hadn’t laughed this hard in weeks.

His ribs were aching, doubled over as Monty re-told the story of the jobi nuts and how everyone was powerfully hallucinating. Miller remembered that day well but no one ever spoke about it, about the different visions that they saw. Monty was going hard though, describing in detail how he swore the moon was a person that was controlling the area around them.

“I remember that,” Raven but in at one point. “You walked into Finn’s tent talking about physics.”

Miller snorted again as Monty’s smile grew. “Right. Nice,” Monty said. “After that it’s mostly blurry though. But I’m 98% certain I ate a pinecone.” Miller laughed another time, shaking his head at his friend who started describing the taste. “Oh, hey!” he stopped in the middle of his story and waved his hand. “Trent!” Miller looked up to find his boyfriend crossing to them. His hands were caked in dirt and he looked tired – must’ve been another long day out in the fields.

“Hey,” Trent said. He strode over, taking the open spot on the log by Miller, who swung his arm over his shoulder when he sat. Trent bent in and pressed a kiss to Miller’s face, causing him to scrunch his nose. He’d kiss his boyfriend a million times in private, but he was never the biggest fan of public affection. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Octavia started making kissing noises. Monty scraped the ground until finding a small stone and chucking it in her direction to shut her up. “Hey,” she said with a frown.

“Monty was just reminding us about this one night back at the dropship,” Miller said. He felt Trent’s arm circle around his back and Miller smiled. It was nice, being close like this. “We were all high.”

“Intentionally?” Trent asked.

“No. Bad _nuts_ ,” Monty said with a smirk. Octavia tipped her head back in a laugh. “We learned a crap-ton about the ground on the Ark but these things were insane. Had us hallucinating.”

Trent squeezed Miller’s side. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Raven agreed from across the fire. “Miller was acting like Shakespeare or something.”

Miller rolled his eyes. “I was not.”

“You were too,” Raven said. “ _To be or not to be, that is the question_.”

“If you’re thinking of the skull scene,” Bellamy chimed in, “then you’re wrong. That’s not _to be_ , that’s a different one.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The group got off the topic of Miller’s hallucinations (which _weren’t_ about Shakespeare, thank you very much) and just kept reminiscing about those early days with wistful smiles. They talked about the radioactive butterflies. The first time it rained. Watching the first sunset. Miller felt at peace, listening to everyone go back and forth listing their favorite memories, taking these moments to not focus on the things that were lost or broken or gone from the dropship days.

Trent yawned beside him and Miller turned to find his boyfriend looking… bored. But he was probably just tired.

“We’re gonna get to bed,” Miller said to his friends. Trent smiled appreciatively and they both waved as they headed off to their tent. Trent laced his fingers with Miller’s as they walked silently. “Long day?” Miller asked him after some time.

“Mm, I guess.” He shrugged. “Feels good to feel the earth in my hands.”

Miller smiled at him then. That was what he loved about Trent, his pure innocence. The world wasn’t cruel to him, it was kind. He always saw the best. He liked farming and he liked smiling and he liked making Miller smile, and Miller liked _him_. Once they were in their tent Miller grabbed Trent’s hands, tugging him toward him and kissing him once. Trent grinned against Miller’s mouth before pulling back.

“I missed you,” Miller murmured.

Trent’s grin widened. “Prove it,” he teased.

Their clothes were gone in minutes.

* * *

“Why do they call you that?” Trent asked one afternoon. “Miller.”

Miller arched an eyebrow. “That’s my name.”

Trent had been back from Agro for a few weeks now and things were going well. At least, that’s what Miller thought. Last night Trent and the rest of the gang had taken one of the jeeps to an outside sector to start a huge fire and drink moonshine. It was an easy night where they all stretched out and stared at the sky, thinking of the time in which they lived in the stars. Trent had fallen asleep in the jeep ride back and they didn’t have a chance to talk until now, this small break they had between their duties.

“Your _last_ name,” Trent said. “The only person I’ve heard you call you by your _real_ name is Monty.” Miller felt his bones get stiff. What was Trent implying? “Is it like a joke, or something? Another one of those criminal things I don’t understand?”

Miller frowned at him. “My name isn’t a joke, it’s just my name Trent. That’s what they call me. And _criminal things_?” he asked. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Trent’s frown mimicked his. “You know what I mean,” Trent said. “You guys are like a clique or something, Nate. I can barely keep up. You communicate with your eyes.” Miller’s frown deepened. How long had he felt like this? Miller had been bringing him around to hang out with his friends for some time now and he’d never mentioned it. If he didn’t feel like he didn’t belong he should’ve said something sooner and Miller could’ve made more of an effort. But now that Trent felt like an outsider that wasn’t going to change. He thought last night had been… good? “It’s fine,” Trent added swiftly. “I get it, you guys have been through more things together—whatever, but I don’t know.”

“I didn’t know you were upset,” Miller muttered.

“Not with _you_ ,” Trent stressed. “And—I’m not, it’s just…” he trailed off with a sigh, lifting his shoulders slightly. “Sometimes it feels like I don’t know you anymore.”

“Where is this coming from?” Miller nearly snapped. “Last night was—”

“Last night was fine,” Trent cut him off. “But I spent a lot of time talking to Raven and…” Trent trailed off with another sigh before shaking his head. “There’s a lot you haven’t told me, Nate.”

Miller blinked hard. He remembered seeing Trent with Raven last night, thinking how happy he was that the two were bonding. Monty had pointed it out considering they’d been sitting a bit away from everyone else, but Miller was appreciative. Only…

“What did Raven say?”

“Nate…”

“What the hell did Reyes say, Trent?” He didn’t mean to snap, but he did. Miller leapt to his feet and stared down at where his boyfriend was sitting.

Trent sighed loudly, dragging his hand through his thick brown hair but not saying anything. Miller’s hands curled into fists. Where the fuck did Raven get off? Miller was going to have to remind her to keep her nose out of other people’s relationships. It wasn’t _Miller’s_ fault that Wick turned out to be an asshole.

“Nothing specific,” he finally said. “She mentioned the war with the Grounders at the dropship. And what happened in Mount Weather. But to be fair, everyone generally knows what happened at Mount Weather.” Miller’s hands were still curled into fists as he listened to his boyfriend talk. “You haven’t said anything about either of those things, it just makes me think that you don’t want me to know.”

“You’re right,” Miller said loudly. “I _don’t_ want you to know. Because it was shitty. Both of those situations were shitty and you don’t need to know.”

Trent looked taken aback by this admission. “So you’re keeping secrets from me now?” he asked.

“It’s not a fucking secret,” Miller growled. “It’s just not something I want to talk about.”

“Then you can’t get mad when I say I don’t know you anymore!” Trent threw his hands up in the air and stood too, pacing away from Miller with a small shake of his head. “You’ve been through things I can’t even fathom, I understand that, but you’ve got to give me at least a _chance_ to get to know you in the ways you’ve changed.”

Miller shook his head as Trent turned to look at him.

Those weren’t things he could share.

* * *

Miller found himself getting increasingly frustrated. With the ground, with the Ice Nation, with his boyfriend.

“He wants me to talk about it,” Miller muttered to Monty one night. “About before. But fuck, Monty, I can’t. Not with him.”

That was when Monty grabbed a bottle of moonshine from behind the counter of the bar (“I make it, anyway,” Monty said. “So it’s not technically stealing.”) and led Miller far away from the crowds.

It wasn’t supposed to be a fun drinking game. Actually, it was an awful idea completely. But Miller had a hard day and Monty needed a drink and both of them were feeling sorry for themselves. So they ended up on the floor in one of the empty hangars their friends regularly hung out in, their backs to the wall as they passed the bottle of moonshine between them.

 _Take a drink for every shitty thing you’ve done_.

It was so much _easier_ to talk to Monty, Miller thought. Not only because he’d been through all of the shitty things with him, because he’d been there when Atom was bleeding and broken and when Fox was thrown down a trash chute and when everything was falling apart. But Monty didn’t _judge_ him. Not for what he’d done to survive, what he’d had to do. He wasn’t so sure Trent would be the same.

“I helped torture Lincoln,” Miller said before taking the bottle out of Monty’s hands. “And I liked it. I wanted him dead.” He took a big swig and watched Monty sigh, resting his head backwards against the wall. “Sometimes he’ll look at me and I can see him remembering it. Remembering what I did.”

“Lincoln… knows you now.”

“This isn’t make ourselves feel better time,” Miller muttered. “No excuses for the shit we’ve done, Monty. Your turn.”

Monty sighed loudly and took the bottle back from Miller. “When I was arrested,” he said, passing the bottle between his hands. “It could’ve just been me. Not me and Jasper.” Miller looked at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. “We’d both stolen the stuff but I was the one who was caught. Jasper would’ve wanted to take the fall with me, I know that because we'd talked about it, but I should’ve left his name out of it.” Monty lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a drink. “And I didn’t feel guilty about it. Because I didn’t want to be alone in there.”

“Damn.”

Monty passed the bottle back. “Your turn.”

They went back and forth for a while. _Took pleasure out of shooting a Grounder. Helped orchestrate the irradiation of the mountain. Cracked someone’s head with a baseball bat. Watched Dr. Tsing burn. Strangled a man with my hands. Let them experiment on Harper without trying hard enough._ Back and forth and back and forth. The bottle was constantly being handed off, their fingers brushing with every pass.

Soon enough Miller was drunk. And he couldn’t stop staring at Monty’s mouth. The way his lips curled around the mouth of the bottle before he knocked it back, taking a big drink of the moonshine. The way he licked those lips moments after the bottle had been lowered. The way those lips moved when he spoke, scrunching up on one side when he was trying to think of how to word his next sentence. Miller let out a shuddering breath and snatched the bottle from Monty’s hand before taking a swig of his own.

“What was that one for?” Monty asked as Miller lowered the bottle.

He shook his head. He couldn’t say it out loud. He wouldn’t. “This,” he breathed.

“Playing shitty drinking games?” Monty asked. Miller didn’t respond. That wasn’t what he meant. Monty licked his lips again. “Nate?” Miller turned to look at Monty who carefully pried the bottle from his hands. “We should stop,” Monty murmured. Miller nodded in agreement. They should.

“It was your idea.”

“Not the drinking game.” Miller’s head was resting backwards against the metal wall. “Just the drinking.” Miller shrugged. He turned to look at Monty then, and Monty turned to look at him. They were sitting close to each other, and with their heads turned their mouths were only a few inches apart. “Talk to him,” Monty murmured.

Miller closed his eyes before turning his head again, facing away from Monty. “He’ll hate me. When he knows.”

“If he doesn’t understand, Nate,” Monty murmured, reaching over to rest his hand on Miller’s knee, “then he’s not who you need.”

Miller knew that.

He knew that and he hated it. Because Trent was _good_. And Miller _wanted_ something good. But were the two of them _together_ good? After all this time?

“I know,” Miller exhaled. He turned back to Monty and opened his eyes again. They were still so close. There were words perched on the edge of Miller’s tongue, words he couldn’t say because if he did there was no going back. _Sometimes I wish it was you_. Because that was disloyal. Disloyal but painfully true. His eyes dropped to Monty’s lips, and Monty’s eyes dropped too. “It’s just…” Miller trailed off.

Just in time, too. There was a loud stomping of feet and the two of them turned to find Jasper stumbling into the hangar.

Jasper’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them before his lips curled into a cruel smile. “And what do we have _here_?” Jasper asked. His voice was slurred and his eyes were hazy. He was drunk, too. But that wasn’t unusual. “Just a little bonding time?”

Miller sighed, licked his lips, and stood. “I’ll take him to his tent,” he said to Monty, who looked grateful he didn’t have to be the one to do it again. “Let’s go, Jordan,” Miller said loudly, swinging his arm over Jasper’s shoulder and guiding him from the hangar. Miller was drunk, sure, but not as drunk as Jasper. Never as drunk as Jasper. He was surprised when Jasper didn’t fight him on this, just following his footsteps out of the hangar and to the tent city.

He shouldn’t have expected the silence to last long.

Jasper had barely even sat down on his bed when he cleared his throat. Miller lingered in the doorway of the tent, knowing Jasper was trying to get his attention.

“Anyone with eyes can see it, you know,” Jasper said. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, kicking off his shoes sloppily. “You’re not fooling anyone, Miller. Especially not Trent.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re talking about,” Miller snapped. But the problem was he did. He knew exactly what Jasper was talking about.

“Whatever. Yeah you do.” Jasper rolled slightly look up at Miller. “You and Monty are so great at hurting people you _supposedly_ care about. You make a perfect couple, really.” Miller whirled around to look at Jasper who looked smug. “He’ll figure it out,” Jasper said. “Trent. He’s smart. He’ll see you don’t love him.”

“Fuck you, Jasper.”

“Don’t be pissed because you know I’m true.”

“Fuck you,” Miller said again. He turned on his heel and practically sprinted out of Jasper’s tent.

* * *

Back in Miller’s tent, Trent was already there. He was stretched out on their bed with a book in his hands and looked up when Miller entered with his eyebrows together.

“You smell like moonshine,” he said.

Miller shrugged. “I got a drink with some friends.”

“Which friends?” Trent asked. Miller tried to walk tall into his tent before sitting down to peel off his shoes. “Because I spent the past hour with Bellamy and Raven, so I know you weren’t with them.”

Miller turned his back on Trent as he peeled his jacket off. “Monty,” he called out.

“Hm. Just Monty?”

“We were catching up.” Not a complete lie, really.

“You see him every day,” Trent pointed out. After his jacket was off, as well as his shoes, Miller padded over to join Trent in bed. He stretched out with his hands behind his head and Trent sat up a little so he could get a better look at his boyfriend. “You okay?” he asked.

Miller shook his head slightly. “Not really.” Trent reached over and rested his hand on Miller’s arm, causing Miller to turn to him. “I love you,” he said.

Trent’s face morphed into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His smile grew. “Glad to hear it. Because I love you too.” Miller sat up then, stretching his hands out and tugging Trent toward him to kiss him forcefully.

* * *

Another week had passed and Trent was still pulling away. More and more, it seemed, and Miller struggled.

He wanted to tell Trent everything, but at the same time he didn’t, and it was confusing and frustrating. Monty didn’t help all that much, he just made Miller distracted, and confused, and feeling guilty (though that wasn’t exactly Monty’s fault – just how Miller felt being around him). But Miller always ended up by Monty’s side anyway.

“Well, isn’t that what you wanted?” Monty asked.

They were in his tent tonight. Miller’s feet were up on a table and Monty was in a chair on the other side. He was tinkering with some sort of radio. Miller had just admitted that he thought Trent was going to end things soon. And that’s when Monty asked. Wasn’t that what Miller wanted? For Trent to end things? For things to be over?

Miller’s eyebrows came together. “I don’t… I don’t think so?”

Monty looked genuinely surprised. “It’s just—you’re always talking about how different he is, how he doesn’t understand you. I figured that was what you wanted—to end things.” Miller thought hard. Was that what he wanted? He loved Trent, he did. But Monty was right, Miller did talk about those things a lot. And it was because they were true. And sometimes, loving someone wasn't enough. “Am I wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Miller admitted. His head was aching. Nothing was simple anymore. Not even having a fucking boyfriend. He rubbed at his face. “What do you think?”

Again, Monty looked surprised. “What do _I_ think?” he repeated, and Miller nodded his head. Monty shrugged. “I think I want you to be happy, Nate,” he said. There was something in his voice that Miller recognized, but he couldn’t but a name to it. Gentle, but sad. “If that’s with him, then by all means.”

Miller dropped his head back into his hands. What did he want?

“He said I kiss too hard,” Miller murmured. It had been the other night, Trent pulled back sharply and the words came out forcefully. _You’re kissing too hard_. _You have been—I don’t like it, Nate._

“Maybe use more tongue?” Miller snorted, looking up at Monty who was trying to smile. “I don’t know how to help you with that one,” Monty admitted. “I have ideas, but you don’t want to hear them. They wouldn’t help.” Miller’s thoughts strayed for a moment, to Monty’s lips wrapped around the moonshine bottle, and he felt his stomach sink. His ideas weren’t helping, either.

* * *

It was another nightmare that prompted Miller to finally open up.

It was storming, so he couldn’t go outside, but he needed to get his thoughts out of his brain and Trent wasn’t asleep due to the wind shaking the tent. The words spilled from him, echoing around their tent in the dark.

Miller spoke quickly, almost never stopping to catch his breath. About the torture of Lincoln. The shots he fired to kill the Grounders. The guards he beat to death at Mount Weather. How he watched Dr. Tsing suffer and melt without looking away. How he’d never felt more alive than when he crushed a guard’s skull against a wall. How his hands were stained with blood and he couldn’t stop thinking about it, ever, and how even though it didn't feel great he’d do it all again if it meant he’d still be alive.

When he was finished, when every horrible thing he’d ever done was in the air, the room was still.

“You don’t regret it?” Trent whispered curiously. “Killing people? With families? Friends?”

Miller’s eyes fell shut. “No,” he admitted hoarsely. “I don’t.”

* * *

Miller wasn’t as broken as he thought he’d be when Trent moved out of his tent a week later. In fact, he felt relief. He felt like he could breath.

“You were right,” Trent said one night as he was collecting his stuff. “I don’t understand you anymore.” Miller lingered in the doorway, watching the boy he once loved getting ready to leave for good. “I’ll always care about you though, Nate. You know that, right?”

“Same for you,” Miller said. Because it was true. He loved Trent. But they just weren’t good together. Not anymore. As Trent was preparing to leave Miller stopped him. “I hope you’ll find someone to take you to the river,” he murmured. “It’s really nice out there.”

Trent smiled. “Thanks, Nate.” He kissed him on the cheek.

And then he was gone.

Miller found the silence of his tent to be welcoming.

* * *

It wasn’t until a few weeks later on a recon mission did Miller and Monty spend some real time alone together.

To be honest, Miller had been avoiding Monty ever since Trent up and left. It wasn’t fair of Miller to do that but he didn’t want to do something stupid, he didn’t want to rush into something that might not’ve had any grounds anyway. So Miller avoided him, and Monty seemed to understand. Besides, Miller felt guilty about how he felt about Monty. He’d felt the same even in a relationship. And though he never acted on it, it wasn’t fair to Trent.

So in a way, he was punishing himself.

But Bellamy said Monty and Miller were the only two that could do this mission. Raven couldn’t because of her hip. Octavia had off and vanished. Jasper was still missing a few screws. So Miller and Monty packed their bags and headed off together.

It was night when Monty finally brought Trent up. “I saw him with Jack the other day,” Monty said. Miller was stretched out on his sleeping bag and Monty was sitting up, tinkering with something like usual. “I think they were headed to the river, honestly.”

Miller’s lips curled in a smile. “Good for him.”

Monty’s eyes darted to him. “Not sure if you mean that.”

“I mean that,” Miller said. “I want him to be happy.”

“And what about you?” Monty challenged. “You ready to be happy yet, Nate?” Miller sat up a little, his eyes on Monty. “Because we’re already in the middle of a war and I’m seriously completely over you avoiding me.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hm,” Monty nearly hummed. “I've given you your space. It’s almost been a month, by the way. If you haven’t noticed.” Miller pushed himself to sit up completely, facing Monty who was sitting across from him now, still tinkering away almost nervously. Miller reached across to Monty’s hands and grabbed the metal contraption from his hand before putting it aside. “I didn’t want to ruin what you had with him,” Monty murmured. His eyes were focused where Miller was now holding his hands. “Because he’s great. And so are you. And you _deserve_ great. But…” Monty trailed off, finally looking up to meet Miller’s gaze.

Miller’s mouth cocked into a grin. He stretched forward, grabbing Monty’s shirt and pulling him toward him before kissing him fiercely. He wanted to feel Monty’s lips on his own, to taste him. He’d wanted to for too, too long. But he could do it now without that guilt stabbing him in the side. He could kiss Monty without feeling like he needed more time, or space, or that he was hurting someone else. He could kiss Monty like Monty deserved to be kissed, like Miller wanted to kiss him.

Monty grinned too before his lips started moving back against Miller’s. After threading his fingers through Monty’s thick hair Monty groaned and tugged Miller down on top of him. Monty cupped his cheek and tipped Miller’s chin down so he could look him in the eye. “Just right,” Monty breathed. Not too hard. _Just right_. Miller’s mouth slowly curved into another smile and Monty pressed his lips to his once more.

If it wasn’t for Bellamy phoning in on the walkie-talkie twenty minutes later, the two might’ve forgot they were sent there on a recon mission.

Regardless, they curled up that night together. Monty buried his face in the crook of Miller’s neck, his arm wrapped around Miller’s waist, and Miller fell asleep with a smile.

Yeah, he was ready to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to write every variation of the Miller x boy situation so Minty is endgame... because I'm in too deep and I need them to be happy and TOGETHER. But I wanted Miller's boy to live so they can have their moments before realizing that their experiences are different and it's okay and they can both be happy, just somewhere else with someone else who they can better relate to. I hope you liked it!


End file.
